


Might Not Ever Get Rich

by RubyIntyale



Series: It Looks Good on Your CV [5]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Car Wash Universe, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Making Out, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 13:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyIntyale/pseuds/RubyIntyale
Summary: They didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs, or the two little knocks that preceeded Timmy's mother walking into his bedroom.





	Might Not Ever Get Rich

**Author's Note:**

> Final chapter in the car wash universe :') Honestly this has been so much fun to write. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and left kudos. Love you all xxx

“Hey, did you paint this?” Armie held up the Xbox controller for Timmy to see.

“Ha! No,” Timmy snorted, snatching it out of his hand. He shoved it into the box he was packing, folded his argyle sweater on top neatly to hide the evidence. He stretched his arms up, rolled his shoulders. “I should've left this shit at school instead of carting it all back with me.”

“You're allowed to do that?” Armie asked, pairing up brightly patterned socks and arranging them in Timmy's suitcase.

“Sort of. You can pay for storage, but they don't let you leave stuff in the dorms.”

“Hmm,” Armie raised his eyebrows, “Mermaid socks? Seriously?” He tossed the offending article into the case.

Timmy stuck his tongue out, “Did you come to help or did you come to mock?”

“I can do both.”

“Can you?”

“I can do this, too,” he sat down on the bed and pulled Timmy into his lap, hugged him close as they exchanged smiley kisses.

They didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs, or the two little knocks that preceeded Timmy's mother walking into his bedroom.

“Tim, are you done with OH GOD!”

“Shit! Shit!” Timmy almost toppled over in his haste to get up.

Armie blushed furiously, stuffing a handful of Timmy's socks into his crotch in a desperate attempt to hide his erection.

Pauline appeared in the doorway. “Hi,” she folded her arms as she leant against the door frame, smiling at Armie, then at the socks.

“Pauline, out! Timothée, kitchen! You,” she gestured towards Armie, opened her mouth, closed it again and stomped out.

Armie wanted to laugh, but Timmy looked mortified.

“Should I go?”

Timmy wasn't listening. He barged out of the room after his mother, his face scarlet.

 

Pauline sat on the couch with her phone, smirked at him as he walked through into the kitchen. His mother perched on the table, clutching a glass of wine. He sat down opposite, looking everywhere but at her face.

“Who is he?” She asked after awhile.

“Armie,” he mumbled, pulling his shirt down and picking at a thread on the hem.

“He looks older than you.”

“You weren't supposed to be home!” Timmy blurted out, “He came to help me pack.”

“Yes, clearly.”

Timmy huffed and looked down at the tabletop.

“How long have you been seeing each other.”

“A few months.”

“More like over a year,” Pauline piped up.

Timmy shot her a murderous glare. His mother sipped her wine through pursed lips.

“OK. Yeah. I've known him for awhile, but we only started dating a couple of months ago.”

“And what were you doing before that?”

A snigger from the couch. “Getting fired.”

“Pauline, I swear to fucking God,” Timmy stood up, but his mother placed a placating hand on his arm.

“Tim...”

“I'll tell him to leave, OK?”

She nodded, “I'm going to bed. We'll discuss this tomorrow.”

Timmy made a show of sulking as he trudged upstairs. They waited twenty minutes before he stomped down again, shouted “Bye Armie,” out of the door and ran back up, taking the stairs three at a time. Armie hid behind the door, back flat against the wall, holding his breath.

They moved the boxes off the bed (Timmy wedged one against the door) and climbed under the covers. Timmy sighed as he flopped against Armie's chest. “I don't wanna go back,” he mumbled, his voice small and sad.

“Aww, Tim,” Armie kissed his cheek. “Too many clothes,” he whispered, tugging at Tim's t shirt.

Timmy took it off, wriggled out of his underwear too for good measure.

“Much better,” Armie tangled their legs together, enjoying Timmy's weight resting on him.

“I'm serious. Every time I think about leaving you I just,” Tim sniffed, sat up on his elbows and cupped Armie's face in both hands.

“So don't.”

“What do you mean?” Tim looked wary.

Armie's Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to find the words. “Well, I don't exactly have anything keeping me here any more.”

Timmy's eyes widened. Armie stroked his back, trying to soothe the tension he could already feel in his spine. “So,” he spoke slowly, “instead of living in a sweaty dorm with your room mate's crusty gym shorts, why don't we...”

“Armie...”

“I mean it. I have some money saved. I can't afford anything bigger than a shoebox, but my parents will probably help out if I beg them, and we can both get jobs so,”

“Armie. Slow down, OK?”

“Sorry,” Armie felt his stomach plunge. “It's dumb. Forget I said it.”

Timmy kissed him, his tongue deep in Armie's mouth as if he couldn't get close enough. Armie pushed his knee between his thighs.

Timmy rocked against him, “If you wanna fuck we'll have to do it on the floor,” he wrinkled his nose, “the bed creaks.”

Armie considered it for all of two seconds. “Nah. Carpet burns.”

Timmy rolled off, nuzzled their noses together. “We'll make sure the new place has hardwood floors.”

Armie grinned as he kissed everywhere he could reach, his fangs scraping delicate skin. He ran his fingers down Timmy's chest and belly, cupped and stroked his cock until it started to fill out against his palm. Timmy copied his movements, wrapped his own hand around Armie's thick length. They worked each other slowly, kissing for long moments before starting up again. Armie grazed his chin under Timmy's ear, making him whimper as his cock leaked everywhere.

“Scratchy beard,”

“Hmmm,” Armie teased the goosebumps on his arms. “You like it?”

“I fucking love it.”

Armie squeezed the tip of his cock, smeared the fluid around with his thumb, “I can't believe you wanna live with me.”

“I can't believe we both fit in this bed.”

“I'm surprisingly compact.”

Timmy giggled, bumped his head against Armie's shoulder. “Like an IKEA storage solution.”

“Tone down the dirty talk, Tim. I'm not quite there yet.”

Timmy had to bite into him to muffle his laughter. He pushed his cock harder into Armie's hand, kissed him until he couldn't breathe.

They lay together, sticky and sated, whispering their plans as the neighbourhood settled around them. Armie watched the sky get light through a gap in the curtains. Timmy fell asleep with his hand in his hair.

 

“When did he leave?”

Blushing, “Ten.”

His mother raised an eyebrow. “Timothée, his car is still in the driveway.”

“Yeah, he decided to walk home,” he spread Nutella on his toast, “didn't want the engine noise to wake you, so,”

Armie's car roared to life outside. Timmy smiled sweetly.

~

“I'm going. Wish me luck.”

Timmy got up off the floor, stepped over the piles of books he'd surrounded himself with. He smoothed down Armie's lapels and straightened his tie.

“Perfect.”

“Are you nearly done unpacking?”

Timmy laughed. “No. I keep getting distracted. Oh, reminds me, I'm working later. Someone phoned in sick.”

Armie pouted. Timmy shook his head.

“I can't believe you won't tell me!”

“You're a fucking liability! And I need the cash, now that we have bills to pay.”

“And you really don't wanna know where my interview is?”

Timmy shuddered. “No. I don't, and I uninstalled Skype from your laptop.”

Armie laughed, a full bodied thing that shook his shoulders. “Did you find the stapler?”

“Yes! And the Vaseline pot. And your 'two straws' from the movie theatre. And that fucking bow tie!”

“I'm sentimental,” Armie shrugged. He pulled Timmy into him, fingers curling around his belt loops.

Timmy played with the buttons on his shirt, licked his lips as he gazed up at him. “I found the chocolate sprinkles, too.”

“Mmmm. Wanna make me late?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [lion-from-the-north on tumblr](http://lion-from-the-north.tumblr.com/)


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